Irdu Lili
by Charlie4short
Summary: Set early in season 13. Dean is in the cross-hairs of a very dangerous enemy. Sam and Castiel discover that they have an unexpected ally. Will it be enough? Dean whump, 'cause that's what I do. Awesome Sam and Castiel; original character. No slash...at least not yet.
1. Chapter 1

**IRDU LILI**

* * *

"C'mon, Sammy, we gotta go. Help me out here, dude." Dean slapped his brother's face gently, trying to rouse the younger man to consciousness. "That thing's gonna come back, man. We gotta get you outta here."

Whatever the demon had used on his brother was not wearing off. "Son of a bitch," Dean sighed. "Can't believe I gotta carry your gigantic ass."

He maneuvered the taller man into a fireman's carry and headed out of the building. "How can someone who lives on salad be so damned heavy?"

He burst through the door, breathing a sigh of relief at the site of his baby gleaming in the light of a full moon. "Almost there, Sammy."

An inhuman roar preceded a deafening roll of thunder as lightning split the sky.

"Oh, shit. He's back."

Dean tried to run, the hair on the nape of his neck standing up.

Another boom and crack, and it felt like lighting scalded his ribs while a concussive force hurled both hunters into the Impala, shattering the passenger side windows and denting the front door.

The world spun. _What the hell just happened?_ Dean fought to clear his head. _Sammy_. His brother had taken the brunt of their impact with the car. _Baby_. Dean rolled off Sam and tried to lever himself up, intent on getting his brother and himself into the Impala, away from the insanity that they'd fallen into. "Son of a bitch." A searing agony lanced through him, driving him back to the ground. His hand dropped to his side and his stomach lurched the way it did when he was in a plane that hit turbulence.

Something sharp was sticking out of him, and his hand was wet with blood. _Oh, damn. This is not good. That thing is right behind us._

He quickly painted a banishing sigil on the side of his baby, constructed of his own blood, and slapped his palm into it.

The building behind them exploded in a flash of white.

Dean threw himself on top of Sam, crying out as whatever was impaling him caught in the material of his brother's coat.

Black clouds filled the sky, roiling like the malevolent force they were, lit from within by flashes of lightning.

Pain arced through him, and Dean struggled to think around it. _Gotta get Sammy outta here._ Dean pulled himself to a standing position but was unable to fully straighten. _Jesus Christ, that hurts._ He leaned his head against the car, willing the torment to a manageable level before opening the rear passenger door.

 _Gotta get Sam in there._ A rush of despair washed through him - _Can't do it_. But there were no alternatives; if they didn't move, the demon-god-whatever-the-hell-it-was would kill them for sure. He took two panting breaths, bracing himself, then bent to lift his unresponsive brother by the armpits, levering the taller man's torso onto the backseat.

The effort was accompanied by a muted scream of anguish erupting through Dean's clenched teeth.

He staggered forward a step, trying to get his brother into the vehicle, but couldn't get Sam high enough to rest his hips on the seat. _No!_ He tried to force his injured body to his will, but his legs gave out. He released his hold on Sam before his own knees hit the ground, hoping his brother would remain at least half inside. _I can get a shoulder under his legs and push him up the rest of the way._

The older hunter nearly cried in frustration as he watched his brother slide to the ground, back braced against the car.

Dean pushed himself up to one knee, expression twisted into a desperate grimace, sweat coating his face. _You can do this. Just breathe through it._ He closed his eyes, trying to prepare his mind to ignore what he was about to feel, then leaned one shoulder into Sam to lift him into a semblance of a fireman's carry.

Fire shot through him and he screamed as he stood, fighting away the blackness chasing the brain-numbing torture emanating from his puncture wound. He was able to think enough to throw his left hand over Sammy's head before falling back with him into the Impala, and he shouted hoarsely as that motion drove the object deeper into his body.

He slid out along Sam's legs, hitting his knees hard on the muddy ground, catching himself with his palms as he vomited savagely between them.

The violent muscle contractions sent fresh hell through him, and he fell to his side, back arched, mouth open in a soundless scream, air having been torn from his chest.

 _On the rack, abdomen sliced open, Alistair pulling out shining loops of intestine, laughing as vomit geysers from Dean's throat._

The spasm released him and he sagged into the pooling rainwater, breath coming in sobbing gasps. Electric shocks of agony spread out from the wound, lancing into the left side of his chest, spreading out to the center of his abdomen, and shrieking their way down to his groin.

' _S not Hell. 'S a parking lot. Monster, not Alistair._

He'd had a lot of injuries in his life, but nothing outside of Hell had come close to what he was feeling now. _Not Alistair._

He wanted to hold himself as still as possible, let consciousness fade and fate do what it would. _Can't move. 'S gonna hurt so bad. Jus' need to sleep a little bit._

If he'd been alone, that's exactly what he would have done. But he wasn't alone, so giving up wasn't an option. _Can't let it get Sammy._ Dean knew that the banishing spell wouldn't last long.

Not against a storm god.

He pushed up onto his knees, breathing erratic as he fought back inhuman sounds of torment. _Gotta get Gigantor's stilts into the car_ , and he grimaced, nearly retching with pain, as he shuffled around on his knees until he was facing his baby.

He rested his forehead on Sam's leg long enough to get his breathing under control. Then he worked a shoulder under each of his brother's limbs, face twisted into an unconscious grimace. He wrapped his hands around Sam's thighs just above the knee and rested a minute, panting heavily.

Lightening strobed overhead.

Dean thrust with his legs, forcing Sam to slide up and into the seat, his own tormented roar lost in the bellow of thunder from an enraged deity.

He nearly fell on his brother, bracing himself with his right hand on the front seat at the last moment. He pushed his way out of the car, slipping in the mud, and ended back on his shins again.

 _Forced to his knees, Alistair's fist in his hair, one eye swollen shut and the other blurry, fist coming towards him -_

"'S not Alistair." He was so far gone that he didn't even realize he'd spoken out loud.

Lightning lit his world again, and Dean fought his way to his feet, unaware of the pained groans escaping him. He closed the door and leaned heavily on the vehicle as he slid around to the driver's side, forcing that door open with difficulty. He lowered himself gently to his familiar home behind the wheel. The thing that had skewered him caught on the edge of the seat. His hoarse shout was clogged by the black liquid that spilled from his mouth.

He dropped his head to the steering wheel, sobbing in pain for the first time in a decade. "Cass! C-Cass! I -" he moaned, fingers pressing into the flesh near the wound in a vain attempt at alleviating the burn. "I need you." The words were a ragged whisper.

Thunder reverberated through him as he pulled his leg into the car, and he knew that the god was close. "Gotta get you outta here, Sammy." Catching the edge of the door with his foot, he drew it in so that he could close it without moving his torso.

His baby started on the first try, and he peeled away from the furious god, struggling to focus his vision through a blur of tears and rain.

The torment seemed to be spreading, now driving into his left shoulder and coursing down his left thigh to beat a pulse in his knee. "Cass, please," rasped in concert with the windshield wipers, a prayer that Dean was unaware he was making.

* * *

"Mother, we have to help him!" Zellynnexia was frantic.

"We can't, child! We cannot reveal ourselves to my father, especially in order to come to the aide of the creature he considers an abomination!"

"I have to, Mother! I can't let him die!"

"I forbid it!"

Zellynnexia sank to her knees, weeping.

* * *

His driving was erratic, speed inconsistent, and the heavy vehicle swerved randomly from one lane to the next.

 _On the rack, Alistair pacing, that sick smile on his face. "What shall we do next, Dean?"_

" _Doesn't matter. Cut off whatever you want, asshole. It'll all be back tomorrow."_

" _Oh, yes, it will, and that's my favorite part." He leaned in close, breath intimate against his captive's face._ _"I just keep getting to play with you, over…" he slid his blade along the skin of Dean's bare chest, opening a furrow that went down to bone,_ _"and over…" a second incision paralleled the first, and Dean locked his throat against a hiss of agony,_ _"and over again. Unless I decide I'm getting bored."_

 _He slammed the knife forcefully into Dean's solar plexus, and his smile widened as blood almost immediately spilled from the former hunter's mouth._

With the taste of blood his vision cleared. _Baby. Driving._ But he was having a difficult time deciding which reality he belonged to.

 _Flat on his back, tied spread-eagled. Nude. Always nude, and after so many years, he's gotten used to it. Burning, screaming agony in his left side, and he looks down to see a Hellhound crouched there, maw dripping gore. It plants a heavy, clawed foot on his shoulder, pressing down. Dean feels the bones separate before they fracture, and no matter how hard he tries not to, he can't stop himself from screaming._

His agonized howl brought Cass. "Dean!" The angel had appeared at his friend's side, face etched deeply with concern.

 _Cass. Not Hell. Cass is here._

"S- Sam. Check on - " Dean groaned. "Sam. 'S a god."

Cass leaned quickly into the rear compartment of the vehicle, knowing that if he didn't put his friend's mind at ease, Dean would likely do himself more harm in his quest to ensure that Sam was taken care of.

The younger hunter was unconscious. Cass touched two fingers to the man's forehead, and was rewarded with a slow-blinking return to awareness and a look of extreme confusion. "Cass? Where…?"

"Impala". The worried angel's response was terse. "Dean's hurt."

"S - Sam…."

Sam jerked upright, face alarmed. "Dean! Pull over! You're going to kill us!"

A blast of lightning illuminated three stark faces as a roll of thunder rattled what was left of the windows.

 _Sam was on the rack across from him, Alistair poised between the two brothers, and his smile was poisonous. "Which will it be, Dean? You, or Sam?"_

" _Don't touch him! Don't you fucking touch my brother!"_

 _Alistair chuckled. "I knew you'd say that." Instantly four demons surrounded Dean, each snarling with malicious intent._

As if to confirm Sam's statement, Dean suddenly bellowed, an agonized, primal sound reminiscent of his death by Hellhound.

"Dean!" Sam reached over him to grab the wheel as Dean's body arched back in a convulsion that forced both feet into the floorboards, throwing the heavy vehicle into an uncontrolled acceleration. "Cass! Do something!"

"No! Stop!" A woman had appeared in the almost non-existent space between the angel and his tortured friend. "Just wait!"

She turned, placing one hand on Dean's forehead, the other on his abdomen. He immediately went limp, though his eyes remained open to slits and his breath could be heard escaping in desperate gasps.

She looked over the seat at Sam. "You have to get him away from the storm." Then she turned back to Castiel, fingertips grazing over his jaw in a gentle caress that belied her harsh tone: "Don't touch him!"

And she was gone.

"What the hell?" But the majority of Sam's attention was focused on steering a thirty-five hundred pound vehicle from the back seat. He had nothing left to devote to the enigma of the disappearing woman. "Dean! _Dean_! Can you hear me?"

A groan that vaguely resembled his name issued from the limp form in the front seat.

"We need to get you out of the driver's seat, alright? Take your foot off the gas."

Dean's breathing picked up and he moaned softly with the movement, but his leg shifted and the car began to slow.

"I know you're hurt and it's a lot to ask, but could you manage the brake for us?"

"Yeah." The grunted syllable sounded like it had been dragged over charred glass.

"Cass, be ready to put it in park."

"Yes, Sam."

Dean held his breath, biting his lip as he lifted his foot enough to make contact with the brake pedal, then pressed down.

Sam steered them onto the gravel shoulder. "Now, Cass."

The car jolted to a halt and Sam was out the door, yanking Dean's open, catching the injured man as he listed out into the night.

"Easy, buddy, easy!"

"Sammy." The word was a tortured whiimper.

"I gotcha, Dean. Let's get you into the back so we can get out of here, get you some help. Okay?" He squatted low to work his shoulder beneath his brother's.

"Jus' lea' me, Sam."

"Yeah, right, like that's gonna happen. Let's go." He stood, carefully drawing Dean out with him.

Dean grunted softly, face locked in a grimace. "You...gotta go...Sam."

"Shut up, jerk. Just gotta get you into the backseat," Sam huffed. He threaded Dean's left arm over his shoulders, gripping Dean's wrist with his left hand. He snaked his right behind the other man with the intent of slipping his fingers beneath his brother's belt.

His arm grazed something sharp, and Dean gave a wordless shout of pain.

"Jesus! I'm sorry, Dean!"

"Don't touch it," he moaned. "Please, don't touch it."

"I won't. I'm sorry. I didn't know it was there."

Dean was nearly a dead weight as Sam worked to get him transferred to the back seat. "Lift your leg in, and you can lay down on your side."

Dean grunted as he struggled to comply.

Sam eased him down onto his right hip, untangling himself from his brother's grasp, lowering the injured man gently onto his right side. "Brace yourself with your arm so you don't roll onto that thing," he directed, placing Dean's left hand on the edge of the seat. Sam removed his coat and rolled it, tucking it behind his brother's back. "That should keep the thing from touching the seat, but we gotta get you the rest of the way in." He hurried around to the other side, leaned in, and gripped the shoulders of his brother's coat. "This will probably hurt, but it will be over quick."

"He's comin', Sam," Dean groaned, and Sam heard a low rumble of thunder.

"Shit. Hang on." He tugged, sliding his brother along the seat to the accompaniment of a strangled cry. "Cass! Close the door!"

Without thinking, Cass lifted Dean's boot to push it into the vehicle.

An explosion rocked the car. Sam and Cass were both thrown back, landing stunned on the ground, while Dean's body went rigid, mouth stretched in a silent howl.

Sam shook his head, clearing away confusion as he struggled to his feet. "Dean!" As he watched, the contraction locking his brother in a pained rigor released its hold, and Dean curled forward, vomiting black fluid onto the floor.

"Cass!" Sam leaned on the roof of the car, noting with relief that the angel had already regained his feet and was shaking the grit from his coat. "You need to drive!" He ducked low, lifting Dean's shoulders carefully to ease his own legs beneath his brother. "I got you, Dean. You're going to be okay."

He cradled his brother's sweat-damped head, feeling the tremors coursing through the man's body, and hoped he wasn't lying.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

* * *

They sped through the night, silent and tense.

As the sky cleared, Dean's body relaxed and his breathing evened out.

"How is he?" Cass ventured, voice gravelly with disuse.

"Sleeping, I think." Sam had been carding his fingers through Dean's hair absently, a gesture that his brother would never have tolerated had he been awake, but which Sam found comforting.

"That wound: it's…."

"Yeah, I know. Cursed or poisoned." Sam was quiet for a moment. "Oddly enough, it isn't bleeding as badly as I would have expected. And given where it is, it should have destroyed something important enough to have killed him by now. I think the damned thing is keeping him alive."

"So no hospital then."

"No. And I have no idea how we get rid of it, or if we even can without it killing him."

"That woman: she's in my head."

He said it casually, as if remarking on the weather.

"She's _what_?" Sam was far less casual.

"She is speaking to me in my head. She said that what has pierced Dean is a portion of a claw, and she knows how to remove it."

"And we should trust her _why_?"

"She said that Dean knows her, and he trusts her."

Sam looked down at his brother. "Leave it to him to know an attractive, magic female."

"What was that?"

"I said, 'We don't really have any options.'"

"I could try to contact Jack."

"Yeah, because that's worked so well in the past. And we don't know that he'd be able to help any more than you can."

Cass was silent.

"Sorry, Cass," Sam conceded. "It's not a bad idea…I'm just…."

"I know, Sam."

They lapsed into silence.

"Can you talk to her, too?" Sam queried.

"Sometimes. She isn't there constantly. She is not there now, for example."

"What has she told you about the claw?"

"Well, for starters, Dean was right: it is from a storm god. A former storm god, technically, now a demon incubus."

"An incubus?"

"The father of all incubi."

Sam shook his head. "Sounds powerful."

"Yes, he is. And he's very angry with Dean."

"Why?"

"She hasn't said. He can use the claw to track your brother, but she is fairly certain that the warding in the bunker will be an effective deterrent."

"That's comforting. How long until we reach it?"

"If I continue at this speed, approximately one hour."

Sam sat up straighter, trying to read the speedometer. "An _hour_? How fast are you driving, Cass?"

"The needle is pointing to one hundred and twenty miles per hour."

"It only goes to one twenty, Cass."

"Yes."

"So you may actually be driving faster than that."

"I suppose so."

"Jesus. Don't get us killed."

"Of course not."

And the night rushed past.

* * *

Sam woke as the Impala rolled to a stop inside the bunker.

Dean snored softly in his lap.

"What next?"

Cass stared at him, eyes blank.

"Cass?"

His friend's eyes cleared. "Sorry. She was speaking." Cass pushed his door open. "She gave me a list of supplies for a potion, but we need to get Dean inside. She doesn't think that the garage is strong enough."

"Strong enough? I thought you said the warding would keep the thing out?"

Cass rested a somber look on his young friend. "No. It will impede him. She fears he will drop the building on us in order to destroy the warding – and Dean."

"What? Drop the _building_ on us, Cass? Then what the hell are we even doing here?"

"If we can destroy the claw before he finds us, we will remain hidden from him. We need to get Dean as deep into the bunker as we can, then use the potion to dissolve the claw."

Sam shook his head. "This is nuts." He pushed his door open. "Why is this thing after Dean, anyway?"

Cass shrugged. "All I know is that the being in my head is the demon's granddaughter."

Sam groaned, sliding limbs gone numb from the pressure of his brother's body out onto the concrete. "Leave it to Dean to sleep with the daughter of a god." Sam's eyes widened, and he slapped his palm to his forehead. "Cass, I know who the woman is. Her name is Zellynnexia. She's a succubi."

"And Dean knows her?"

Sam grimaced. "Yeah. Biblically." He shook his head at Cass's inquisitive look. "Long story. Not important at the moment." He stood, leaning on the car, wincing as blood recirculated through his legs. When the worst of the tingling had passed, he leaned back in. "Dean." He shook his brother's shoulder gently. "Hey, buddy. We're home."

Dean grunted. "Fi' more minutes, Sam."

Despite himself, Sam smiled. "Sorry, guy, but we gotta get inside and start fixing you up." He licked a finger and stuck it in his brother's ear.

"Ack! Hey! Knock it off!" Dean batted the hand away, eyes blinking open. He moaned then, dropping his hand to his side. "Shit."

"Yeah. Still got that thing in you, but we know what it is, and we're gonna take care of it, okay? First step is to get you inside, though. Can you move?"

Dean pushed himself up onto his right arm, left curled tightly to his side. Once he had moved to a seated position, he tipped his head back, breathing hard. "Dizzy."

"Yeah. You lost a lot of blood."

"Was Alistair here? I remember Alistair."

"No. As far as I know, that asshole is still dead," Sam supplied.

"The claw is enchanted. It makes you hallucinate."

Dean opened one eye, studying Cass. "How do you know – "

 _I'm in his head, Dean._

"Zell…" He breathed the name reverently.

Cass and Sam exchanged concerned looks.

 _You need to get to the lowest, most highly warded place that you can until your friends are able to remove the claw._

 _You gonna tell me what's going on, Zellynnexia?_

 _My grandfather found you, and he's trying to kill you. His claw will keep you alive while he tracks you, and he will use it to cause you extreme pain, then to drain your soul for his consumption._

 _That sounds pleasant._

 _He is very cruel, and he feeds on fear. You must hurry. Your warding is hindering him, but given enough time, he will find you. The claw must be destroyed; it is the only way to hide from him._

 _And you know how to do that?_

 _Yes. I have been instructing your angel friend._

 _Just…instructing?_

He felt her smile. _Yes, my sweet, just instructing. I cannot do more, not in this place. It is too well warded._

 _That's why I haven't seen you._

 _Yes. And my grandfather: he has been looking for you, and for me as well. It has not been safe._

 _But if we destroy him, then it will be safe?_

Again, he could sense her amusement. _Have you missed me, Dean?_

He felt his cheeks flush and his jeans suddenly seemed uncomfortably tight. _Maybe_.

Her laugh tickled through his mind _. I promise that if you survive this, I will find a way to reward you._

"Move, Sam." Shoving past his brother, Dean exited the car, pulling himself to a shaky upright position. "Let's get to the dungeon and get this thing done."

* * *

With Sam supporting him on one side, Dean made it to the hidden room behind the storage area– a space that had once been strong enough to keep the King of Hell captive.

Dean lowered himself into a chair, breathing hard.

"We'll get the potion ready. You gonna be able to stay in that chair until we get back?"

Dean grunted. "I'm fine, Sam," but his voice was tired, and his eyes were closed.

Sam shook his head at the characteristic, yet still annoying stoicism. "C'mon, Cass."

They returned a few minutes later, pushing a wheeled cart from the infirmary, to find Dean stretched out on the floor, blood pooling on the concrete beneath him.

"Dean!" Sam dropped to his knees, fingers seeking and finding the reassuring beat in his brother's neck. "We need to move, Cass. This thing is killing him."

"'S okay, Sam. I'm okay." Dean's voice was barely audible.

"Get his shirts off," Cass directed. "I need to pour the potion directly onto the object."

Sam flicked a knife open and began cutting away the interfering clothing. "What exactly is going to happen?"

"The thing has fibers wrapped around Dean's nerves. The potion will dissolve them. Once the entire thing has disintegrated, I should be able to heal your brother."

Sam had peeled the clothing aside, revealing a jagged, black, sharp-tipped object protruding from Dean's abdomen, with a wider, hollow portion visible at his back.

Cass held an ancient clay jug. "Hold him. She said this may hurt."

He began to pour.

Electricity crackled from the claw, and Dean arched his back on a howl, fingers clawing furrows into the flesh around the object where it protruded from his abdomen.

"Dean, stop!" Sam caught his brother's hand, pulling it into his own chest.

 _Strapped to the rack, and Alistair has one hand buried in Dean's abdomen. He pulls it out, clutching loops of glistening intestine, and the burn where demon skin scorches flesh that was never intended to see daylight is nothing compared to the lancing agony as something that is attached deep, deep inside pulls loose with a sharp tug -_

"Sam...I can't…" a choked scream tore its way out of his chest, and Dean twisted his fist into Sam's shirt, pulling desperately as his boots scrabbled for purchase on the slick concrete. "I can't…"

Cass moved to the back, filling the hollow object with liquid, and Dean cried out, struggling to pull himself away along the floor. "Alistair," the older hunter choked. "Can't...I can't…Please…"

Sam was horrified. "Cass! Do something!"

"This _is_ what we need to do, Sam. Hold him." He continued to apply the potion to both ends of the cursed object.

The stench of necrotic flesh and rotting eggs filled the room.

" _We're going to have so much fun, Dean." Alistair motioned with his free hand, and a female demon appeared. With a feral smile she knelt at Dean's feet, pulling a knife from her belt._

"Can't...can't…." Dean's arms and legs moved weakly as his body instinctively tried to get him to flee from the nightmare it had become mired in.

"Morphine!" Sam shot to his feet, but Castiel caught his arm.

"She said that it won't help."

"Please. _Please_ ," the normally stoic hunter sobbed, voice weak.

"Please what, Dean? What can I do?" Sam leaned close, straining to make out the breathless verbiage.

"Kill me. _Please_ , Sam. Please." _Fire. He was on fire._ "Alistair…"

"Alistair is dead, Dean. You're not in Hell."

"'S burnin'. Gutted me….fire inside…" He convulsed once more, shrieking mindlessly through clenched teeth. The spasm released him, and he collapsed, sobbing. "Please, Sam, please. Jus' kill me. _Please_."

"Hold him," Castiel commanded, and continued to pour.

 _He is nude, spread-eagle on a metal rack. A gaunt-faced demon is smiling in sadistic pleasure as he transfers glowing coals into a long rent in the tortured man's abdomen, filling it with fire. A female demon kneels before him, one hand gripping his genitalia, the other sawing through it at the base with a dull knife. A third hell spawn stands just behind him, tightening a vice around his left shoulder. The sound of cracking bone can be heard each time Dean inhales to renew his screams._

"Shhhh." Sam stroked Dean's hair, tears streaming down his face. "We've got this, Dean. Just hold on."

" _You know how to end this, Dean." Alistair's sibilant voice bordered on seductive, offering him release from torment._

"Can't," he whispered, voice raw.

"Can't what, Dean?"

He sobbed in a breath. "Can't...say 'yes'." His breath hitched erratically. "Kill me. _Please_." He turned his face into Sam's thighs, digging his fingers into the back of his brother's jeans and drawing himself in even tighter as a long, low moan squeezed through clenched teeth.

Smoke curled from the object in his side.

"Explain to me again why morphine won't work." Sam was on the verge of breaking.

"She says that the thing in Dean wraps fibers of itself around the host's nerves," Castiel explained. "It travels, spreading, entrapping more and more of the host's tissues, sending pain impulses along every strand it touches. Attempts to alleviate the pain result in amplification of the signals and a hastening of the spread."

Sam's expression was horrified; Cass's more thoughtful. He shifted the jug again, directing the potion into the hollow core. "It also won't allow the person to lose consciousness, as is the normal reaction to excessive nervous system stimulation."

Dean writhed, crawling up his brother's body, emitting choked sounds of agony.

 _Alistair pushes a hand up, clawing through Dean's diaphragm muscle to penetrate his chest cavity. "Lungs are so nice and soft, Dean. Did you know that? They feel just like pillows. Here, feel." He tugged, and Dean convulsed, tasting blood in the back of his throat._

"Cass! He's coughing up blood! What the hell?"

"It's almost fully dissolved, Sam. In just a moment I'll be able to heal him."

"Not real," Dean ground out between gasps. "You're. Not. Real."

"I am, Dean. I'm your brother, and I'm right here. Alistair isn't real. It's almost over, I swear!"

"F-fuck y-you, Alistair. N-not –" he broke off on a coughing moan, "not sayin' it, you sonofabitch."

Dean's back arched, and black smoke boiled from his mouth, nose, and the wounds in his torso, carrying the man's tortured cries with it.

Abruptly the smoke dissipated and his body went limp.

* * *

Dean held himself very still as consciousness returned, assessing.

His body ached the way it had after he'd been electrocuted.

He was lying on something comfortable, and the air smelled familiar.

Sam was snoring somewhere close by.

He smiled. _Think I'm in my room._

He opened his eyes, confirming his guess. He was lying on his own bed, floating on memory foam. Sam sat in his chair, feet up on Dean's mattress with his ankles crossed.

 _What did I dream, and what was real?_ He began running his hands gently over his body, checking for injuries.

 _It was all real, except the parts about being in hell._

 _Zellynnexia?_

 _Yes, my sweet._

He glanced over at Sam. _Now isn't the best time…._

Her musical laugh sizzled along his nerve endings. _Oh, Dean! I wish that I could. Your bunker is too powerful for me._

He frowned. _But you can talk to me?_

 _Yes, but only because we've touched. Physical contact leaves a portion of oneself behind._

He sighed. _I'm getting' a hotel._

 _Not yet, Dean. My grandfather is still looking for you, and he is intent on killing you._

 _Why? I don't even know who this guy is. Sam and I thought we were going to a simple salt-and-burn, and next thing I know Sam's gone, and this thing has him –_

 _My grandfather is Irdu Lili. He was a god who was banished for his evil deeds. He created all of the 'Cubi._

 _Son of a bitch._

 _Yes. He feeds on fear and pain. He is incredibly cruel._

Dean swallowed. _So how did I get so lucky as to have an asshole like that burnin' a torch for me?_

 _It's not your fault. It is because of something that my mother has done._

 _Yeah? And what was that?_

He was met with silence.

 _Zell?_

 _I cannot tell you._

 _Great! So I just spend the rest of my short life running from a freakin' god because he's pissed at me for something I didn't do and don't get to know about so there's no way I can fix it? Nice, Lynne, real nice._

 _You have to kill him._

 _Kill him. A god._ He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply _. Well, wouldn't be the first time. You got any hot tips for us?_

 _Yes, but I have to be careful: he is looking for my mother, and for me. He wishes to destroy us all._

Sam dropped his feet, leaning forward. "Hey, bud. You awake?"

Dean opened his eyes. "Yeah, and I've got great news: we get to kill another god." He draped an arm over his face. "I fuckin' hate my life right now, you know that, Sammy?"

Sam dropped his head, soft locks falling forward to shield his expression. "I hear ya, brother." He raised his eyes, resting his palm on Dean's shoulder. "I'm right there with you, you know. You won't be fighting him alone."

Dean removed his arm from his face. "Better get the band back together." He pushed himself up on a groan. "And Sam?"

"Yeah, Dean?"

"This time I better get laid out of the deal. And pie. There better be pie."

Sam grinned. "I'll see what I can do."

Dean threw the blankets back, swinging his legs out of the bed.

"Gonna hit the shower. But the gods or karma or the universe or whatever fuckin' owes us, Sam, and I don't think a little action and a piece of pie is too damned much to ask."

Sam chuckled as he watched his grumbling sibling make his way down the hall to the shower.

And the taller brother stood, still smiling as he stretched out the kinks in his long spine.

"Apple pie. Think I can do that." He followed his brother out of the room.


End file.
